With A Little Interference
by Blandings
Summary: Ron and Hermione have been skirting around their feelings for each other for years. Perhaps a little interference from Fred and George would help get them together? Or perhaps not...
1. A Conversation

_Disclaimer:_ I think it's rather obvious, but let me say so anyway: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs solely to J.K. Rowling.

_A/N:_ This pointless little fic is the result of reading far too much P.G. Wodehouse. It's mainly just something to exercise my writing skills. Enjoy it, and please review, even if you don't have anything positive to say. Constructive criticism is always, always welcomed! And don't expect updates to be too frequent, by the way. What with studying and all, I have very little time to write. And now, without further ado, enjoy the story!

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**With a Little Interference**

**Chapter 1: A Conversation**

A few rays of light from the Burrow spilled through the cracks in the curtains, piercing the dark, wintery night outside. They didn't get very far. This was because the fog outside was so thick you could almost believe it was a solid, swirling white mass. Inside the house several members of the Weasley family, along with a few family friends, sat in the living room, which was thankfully heated by a lively fire. The room was alive with the sound of voices in animated conversation.

"Well I hope you have a boy," said one. "Boys don't nag so much."

"Ah, but girls are more intelligent. And far less lazy."

"Yes, but—"

"I'm just thankful lycanthropy can't be passed down through genes," someone wisely interrupted.

"Oh, absolutely, Remus," another person laughed.

"Hey, what are the chances of it being a Metamorphagus? That passes down through the genes, doesn't it?"

"Yes, I am sure zat it does, dear."

"Move over, will you, Bill? I'm _freezing_…"

It was late on Sunday evening. Now that all of their children – with the exception of Ginny, who had only finished her schooling at Hogwarts a few months ago – had left home, Mrs Weasley and her husband had the family down to dinner almost every weekend. Harry and Hermione were always invited too, of course, along with other family friends or old Order members. Today it was Remus and Tonks, who had been married for just over a year.

Mr and Mrs Weasley, along with their guests were seated in the living room – some on sofas, some perched down on the floor due to lack of seating, and all crowding round the fireplace, from which a delicious warmth emanated. It was the lazy after-dinner period of the evening. Usually, before dinner, the guests would be clustered in small groups around various areas of the house, either chatting animatedly or making dull small talk. But after dinner the entire family, plus guests, would congregate in the living room, grabbing whatever form of seating they could. And instead of various mini-conversations going on, there would be one universal conversation in which the rowdier members of the family would participate, whereas the quieter ones would sit by silently and listen.

Tonight was no exception. Three people, however, were not involved in the lively discussion currently taking place in the room. The first was Ginny, who had just gone to the kitchen to deposit some empty glasses. The other two were Fred and George, who were sat slightly apart from the hubbub. They had been quietly discussing something with each other when each felt a finger tapping them on their shoulder. They looked up.

Ginny was standing behind them. "Hello, you two," she greeted. "How's the joke-shop going?"

"Oh, it's you, Gin. And the shop is going wonderfully. Fred and I truly have a knack for business," George replied modestly.

"You mean a knack for causing copious amounts of chaos?" she observed. "Still selling stuff to the Ministry, are you?"

"They can't get enough. Although… when You-Know-Who was around, we did a lot more trade with them."

"Yep. He may have been a Muggle-killing maniac, but he _was_ good for business."

"Stop mentioning _him_," Ginny whispered, sounding mildly irritated. "You know Harry doesn't like it. Anyway, still working on creating your own brand of magical defensive items?"

"We're not too sure about that now. There's not much demand for defensive products these days. If only the wizarding world could be blessed with a few Dementor attacks or something…" Fred sighed wistfully.

"Why don't you go into the match-making business?" she asked, watching them closely. "I've heard about what you did for Neville and Luna."

"Oh, they've told you about that, have they?" Fred asked, sounding vaguely surprised.

"Yes," said Ginny, looking suspiciously down at the twins. "I was talking to Loony the other day, and she mentioned that you two had given them a little… help with their relationship… like a little nudge."

"A _nudge_, eh?" said Fred, sounding amused.

"They're not under some sort of… _spell_ or something, are they?" Ginny asked sternly, regarding the pair in the same sceptical way anyone sensible would regard a product from _Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes_.

"Hey! What makes you accuse us of that?"

"Well… it's just they're very… _happy_," she concluded, as if there were something seriously wrong with the idea of two people being very happy when Fred and George were concerned. And rightly so, too, for this was often the case.

"Well, that's us, spreading sweetness and light."

"Har har," Ginny said drily. "Are you sure you haven't put them under some sort of spell? No? Then a curse? A hex? A charm? No? Are you _sure_?"

"Ginny, Ginny, Ginny," George tutted, shaking his head and sighing a tad too dramatically. "Don't you _trust_ us?"

"Of course not, you twits."

"We always knew you were a smart one," George said, winking.

"So, if – as you claim – they're not under a spell or a potion or anything like that, what _did_ you do for them?" she asked curiously.

"Sorry, Gin. We don't reveal trade secrets."

"Oh, come on! You'd hardly be revealing a trade secret! You're not even in the match-making trade! Besides, I'm _family_."

"Younger sister or not, we never reveal our methods," said George, sounding uncharacteristically stern. It was odd, but even Fred and George drew lines _somewhere_. "Anyway," he continued curiously, "what makes you so eager to find out the little nudge we gave Loony and Longbottom, eh, Gin? Things between you and Harry cooling down a little, are they?" He winked at her.

"No! Things are— I was just curious, that's all."

"Come on, Gin, you can tell us," said Fred persuasively. "What's the matter? Harry no longer interested in you?"

"Yeah, we've noticed the admiring way he looks at Fleur."

"What? He does not!" Ginny hissed, briefly giving in to their taunts. "Besides, I wasn't asking on behalf of me and Harry."

"Oh, of course you weren't, Gin. You were asking on behalf of a _close friend_, right?" George gave her another conspiratorial wink.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," she snapped. "I really wasn't thinking about me and Harry – and for your information, things between us are completely fine," she added. Then, lowering her voice and glancing towards her family clustered around the fireplace, she said, "If you must know, I was thinking about Ron and Hermione. I mean, have you seen the way they behave around each other? It's so obvious that they like each other, only both of them are too bloody terrified to actually do anything about it." Ginny rolled her eyes. "It's been driving me crazy! I was so certain that by the time I was out of Hogwarts they'd be together, but that was five months ago and still nothing. I've tried hinting to Hermione, but all she does is turn red and try to deny everything. And Ron does the same – he just turns awkward and tries to deny everything."

"So you've come to us for help, then? Well, we commend you on your choice, Ginevra. You've seen what we've done for Loony and Longbottom. They're as happy as anything."

"I didn't choose you – you were the only ones I could come to. I've asked Harry, but he refuses to get involved—"

"Why?"

"He wants to keep well out of the way if Ron and Hermione are going to start dating. Says that if things get complicated between the two of them, he'll only be stuck in the middle," she explained.

"What makes him think that?"

"Oh, I don't know," Ginny replied airily. "But, anyway, Charlie's abroad, so that rules him out. As for Bill, Phlegm's always floating around him and I don't want to involve her. Percy," – here, she frowned slightly – "well, you know what he's like. And I can't ask Mum, she'd just fuss too much, and Dad's too busy with work, so that leaves the two of you."

"You mean you're not asking us on account of our highly acclaimed and venerated match-making skills?" Fred asked, injecting some hurt into his voice.

"Well, not completely. But whatever it is you did for Neville and Luna, I'll admit you did a good job; they _have_ been very happy for the past few months. Incidentally, why _were_ you two doing them a favour?"

Fred and George glanced at each other, identical cheeky smirks on their faces. "Well, we weren't really doing them a favour, persay…"

"No, it was more like an apology for what we did to them _before_ we helped them out."

Ginny sighed. "_If_ I agree to let you help Ron and Hermione, I don't want any funny business," she said sternly. "No pranks. Just do what you did for Neville and Luna. And _don't let them find out_. Hermione'll be absolutely furious if she knows I've allowed you two to meddle in her love life."

"No worries. We'll have them together by Christmas."

Ginny frowned and, in a voice that betrayed the argument in her conscience, said, "Look, I'm not exactly asking you to _do_ anything about them. I mean," she babbled on, "I don't think either Ron or Hermione would like it if I asked someone to get involved in their affairs…"

"Ah, say no more, young Ginevra. You're merely _mentioning_ to us that they need some help getting together, that's all. It's never even _crossed your mind_ that we might take it into our heads to do something about it. Is that right?"

"Well… yes."

"Fred and I will take care of things, don't you worry," George said, grinning. "We'll be… discreet about the matter."

Ginny sighed again. "If this goes wrong in any way – _any_ way – I promise you that I will learn how to perform the most powerful Pepper-Breath Hex possible, that you'll feel like you can breathe fire," she threatened.

"We hear you, sister."

"Good. And, now, you're going to tell me what it is exactly that you're going to do."

"What?" Fred cried out, shocked. "We can't do that! Like we said, we don't give away trade secrets!"

"But if you're doing this for me, you ought to tell me!"

"We're not doing it for you, though, remember? Officially, you don't even _know_ we're going to do something for them," George pointed out.

"Oh, stop being stupid," Ginny said, admittedly a poor argument. "Just tell me."

More appeals of this nature were made until Ginny gave up. On certain subjects, the twins had wills of iron.

"Fine," she eventually snapped. "Then you're not doing anything for Ron and Hermione, okay?

"But—"

"You're not doing anything," she said firmly. "_Okay_? I don't trust you two, especially if you're not going to tell me what you're going to do to help them. Now I'm going to go and grab a seat by the fire. I'm freezing."

She stalked towards the fireplace and took a seat beside Harry. A few seconds after Ginny had gone, George asked, "So, are we going to do something for them anyway?"

"What d'you think?"

"I think it's our _duty_ to help our youngest brother."

"I agree," said Fred, barely concealing a grin.

"And, you know, since we're not acting on Ginny's orders, we can go about this in any way _we_ want to," George added significantly. After a brief pause he added, "You weren't serious about not trying to cause trouble, were you, Fred?"

"Merlin, no."

"Oh, _good_."

They grinned.

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	2. The Planning Stages

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs solely to Ms. J.K. Rowling.

_A/N:_ The second chapter! Thanks for the reviews, by the way – review replies are at the end of the chapter!

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**With a Little Interference**

**Chapter 2: The Planning Stages**

Fred and George were at what they liked to refer to as a 'creative standstill'.

Throughout the day they had been discussing ways in which to 'help' (which is what they liked to refer to it as) Ron and Hermione whenever they both had a spare moment. However, spare moments were rarely experienced for the people running _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_, what with the many customers wanting to buy items, and the other customers who stupidly prodded or touched items and then complained about the fact that they had gained a black eye/collection of warts/flourishing moustache – and then there was the sheer amount of paperwork to get through. Who would've thought starting your own business would entail so many pieces of paperwork? Sometimes they were certain the Ministry was just piling it up on them to spite them. Thankfully, they were making enough money to be able to hire a secretary, although neither of them had yet found the time to draft an advert for the _Daily Prophet_.

Though they had been racking their brains for ways in which to give their younger brother's love life a little _nudge_, they had come up with nothing of satisfaction. The first plan had been good, but had required copious amounts of armadillo bile – and, besides, they weren't even sure if it would succeed if put into action. Plan B was interesting, but a little too cliché for their tastes; they were the owners of _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_, after all – it wouldn't do to be involved in an overly-clichéd scheme. Plan C had been a work of genius – but when Ron found out about it, and unfortunately this was an inevitable part of the plan, they would probably have to do some serious relocating to escape his wrath. The twins were, therefore, at a loss. When it came to causing havoc in people's love lives, they were wretchedly – and rather embarrassingly, too – inexperienced.

George entered their office-cum-storeroom, looking haggard, and collapsed onto some boxes. "It's a madhouse out there, Fred! Oh, and we're running low on the Daydream Charms. They're becoming rather popular, you know."

Fred made a note of this. "I suppose we _could_ go with the Love Potion, like with Loony and Neville…" he suggested.

"Huh?"

"I was talking about Ron and Hermione. We need to come up with something _today_. We're seeing them tonight at the Burrow, after all."

"Oh… yeah… but the Love Potion doesn't create nearly enough chaos. I mean, yeah, it was funny when Loony and Neville were all awkward after fervently declaring and… er… demonstrating their love for one another, but that was it. They're actually _happy_ now," George added, as if this was an unexpected occurrence.

There was a knock on the door and a young lady, whom they had hired temporarily to help them manage the store in the run-up to Christmas, poked her head around it. "There's… um… someone who wants see you two," she informed them. Her usual good-natured expression was slightly clouded with worry.

"Who is it, Connie?"

"Um, he won't say… it's a little hard to see his face, he's wearing a dark hood that he refuses to take off, and _sunglasses_, for some reason – in all this fog too! Must be mad!"

"Ah," said George, grinning. "Bring him in. Oh – hello, Lee!"

"This is _not_ funny!" Lee Jordan, their old Hogwarts friend, hissed from somewhere underneath the black hood and sunglasses he had donned. "You'd better get rid of this bloody make-up _right now_, so help you! I know you two did this! I'm not _stupid_ – I'd been getting lots of funny looks ever since I left your shop! And what kind of a bloody charm _is_ it? I've tried washing it off and everything, but it won't budge!"

"Sorry, Lee," said Fred, having the decency to at least sound apologetic. "But we wanted to test our new anti-theft measures against someone. Here, just rub some of this on it—"

"But _why me?_ And I didn't steal anything, either!"

"Ah, but by default, these new security measures automatically go into effect if someone leaves the main store without paying for an item, and, technically, you didn't pay for it, Lee."

"That's because you two said it was _a gift_!" Lee hissed furiously.

"And so it was," George replied. "Only it was… er… something else too."

"I should've known you two weren't just spontaneously generous!"

"And we thought you were smart too, Lee. Love the hood, by the way."

"Don't get me started on that!" Lee cried out suddenly. "Some _absolute tit_ thought I was a Death-Eater and tried to duel me! I had to show him my face in the end – the idiot wouldn't stop laughing. Merlin, I look like a bloody drag queen!"

"A very handsome drag queen," Fred added, winking.

Lee's expression told him that, perhaps, this had not been the most tactful thing to say.

After a few minutes – and a lot more shouting – the make-up had gone and Lee had calmed down sufficiently. Most of Fred and George's friends weren't the type to keep grudges; the ones who did were no longer speaking to them. Lee took off the sunglasses and lowered the hood, and within minutes had cheerfully entered into Fred and George's discussion regarding schemes to help – _ahem_ – Ron.

"Yep, the love potion doesn't do enough harm," Lee agreed. "Hmm… how about trying to make him jealous in some way?"

Fred pulled a face. The idea clearly needed selling.

"It's been proven, time and time again," Lee went on, "that the best way to make someone confess their feelings is through jealousy. Look, it's simple – you slip some Love Potion into Hermione's food or something, _but_, instead of making her fall for Ron, you make her fall for someone else. I'm sure there are several suitable young beaus at Ministry of Magic who'd be delighted to have such an intelligent, sensible girl pining after them. Anyway, Ron gets mad, confesses his feelings for Hermione, the potion wears off, they live happily ever after. Remember what Ginny said about how jealous Ron was when Krum and Hermione went to the Yule Ball?"

"Ah, an irate, jealous Ron – there is no better entertainment," Fred reflected. "But… a Love Potion? That's so _amateur_."

"You and George don't seem to have any better ideas," Lee pointed out. "Although, I must say, that one with the hedgehog was a work of genius…"

"But Ron'd kill us."

"Exactly. So go with the Love Potion! It's simple, effective, and, frankly, you two are completely useless with the interfering in love lives thing."

The twins decided to let this comment pass. They decided that, at present, Lee had a right to be a tad abusive towards them. "I suppose we could, Fred," George conceded. "I think we even have some Amortentia left over from the Loony-Neville affair, so it'd be all ready for tonight."

Fred still didn't look too keen on the idea. "Yeah, but Hermione's had one or two boyfriends before, and Ron's never actually been jealous enough to do something about it—"

"—other than grumble every time their names were mentioned."

"Well…" said Lee slowly, "… what if she fell for someone who Ron's _always_ been a tad jealous of? Maybe then something in him'll finally blow and he'll confess his feelings?"

"Someone he's always been a tad jealous of – you don't mean—?"

"I do indeed."

The twins were silent for a few minutes, in which they contemplated the idea. Suddenly, they had an inexplicable desire to grin.

"You know what I think, Fred?" said George loudly. "Along with Hermione falling for someone Ron's always been a little jealous of, I reckon we'll need someone who is in both Ron and Hermione's company fairly often. We can't have Hermione drooling over some chap while Ron's not there, after all."

"No, no, we certainly couldn't!" Fred agreed. "And, in addition to all _that_, we'll need someone who won't take advantage of Hermione's sudden regard for him. Can you think of _anyone_ who would fit the criteria?" he asked, grinning.

"If I really, _really_ strain my mind, I might be able to think of someone," George replied, an identical grin on his face.

"Oddly enough, me too."

There was silence for a few seconds, in which Fred and George thought about the idea a little more.

"We'll have to use a fairly weak potion – we don't want Hermione's behaviour to be so noticeable that it'll cause suspicion."

"But it'll need to be strong enough for Ron to actually notice the effects."

"Yes. I think we'll use one that lasts for, say, a week…"

"Mmm."

Another brief silence.

"Lee," George began admiringly, "you're a genius."

"Brilliant, Jordan. Never thought _you'd_ be able to succeed where we have failed."

"Yeah. How about a few Canary Creams, on the house, for that?" George offered.

"Wel— _no!_"

-----

Ron and Hermione stood warming their hands in front of the fireplace at Godric's Hollow, where Harry and Ron had been living since leaving Hogwarts. Hermione, a frequent guest, had come over an hour or so ago. They would have seen her later in the evening too, as it was a Saturay evening and so Mrs Weasley would be making dinner for the family at the Burrow, but none of them had had much to do. The prospect of going out was currently a not very appealing one, as the weather had reached bitingly cold proportions.

Harry had just left the room to make some tea, leaving Ron and Hermione standing alone in front of the fire. Ron glanced at her. She smiled at him. His insides gave a pleasant sort of shiver.

_Go on, do it now, tell her!_ he told himself. _It's perfect. Harry'll be at least five more minutes. And she's just standing there, less than a foot away, waiting for you to say something. The fire's a nice touch too. Romantic, or so they say. The state of semi-darkness helps too; for some reason, not being able to see your lover properly is highly romantic. Besides, if you're going to kiss her, it'll be easier doing it standing here, rather than sitting opposite each other on the sofas—_

_Oh, Merlin… Kissing _Hermione. Part of him couldn't wait to do it – if they ever did, that is – but the other part of him, the part of him that seemed to be surfacing more and more these days, was filled with sheer terror at the thought. Not that Hermione was a scary person – well, no, she _was_ scary: not scary in the sense that she made people want to hide behind a tree when they saw her, but scary in the sense that every time he thought of her in a more-than-friendly way his heartbeat sped up considerably and he turned into an awkward, bumbling wreck. With other girls, when you wanted to start a relationship, it was easy enough. You asked them out and were either rejected or accepted – and that was that. If you were accepted, great, if you were rejected… well, it was a slight blow to your ego, but you'd soon get over it.

_But the thought of being rejected by _Hermione…

It was enough to make him not want to ask at all. He knew that people said it was better to be rejected than to not take a chance at all, but at the moment he couldn't see why.

Unfortunately, this wasn't his only problem when it came to the matter of wooing his best friend.

He didn't know what to say. The trouble was, he knew how to talk to her as a _friend _– and it was easy and fun and enjoyable, even the bits when he irritated or annoyed her – but he had no idea about how to talk to her as a prospective girlfriend. Every time he tried to mention something, while trying to find the right words to use, his mind would invariably come to a halt. He sometimes wished she wasn't one of his best friends, and was instead just some girl he knew, because that would have made things a whole lot easier.

The thing was, you couldn't just go over to a best friend one day and ask her out on a date, out of the blue. "Hey, Hermione, what d'you say to throwing away this whole 'being friends' thing and start dating instead?" By asking her out, he would be changing the whole nature of their relationship, and you couldn't do things like that without giving an adequate reason. The result was that he would probably have to – and this was the bit he was really dreading – tell her how he _felt_.

Ron felt a great deal for her, but he wasn't the type to whom romantic, heartfelt speeches come naturally. It made him cringe when he thought about telling her things like the way he felt when she smiled at him, or the fact that when she argued with him it just made him lo—er, _like, _her even more. Even something like 'I, er… sort of… like you… _a lot_…' was a bit too much for him – but that was about as much as he was prepared to say to her right now.

Though he had felt something for Hermione for a few years now, it was only within the last few weeks that he had become more determined to actually do something about it.

Before, things had constantly seemed to get in the way. The year after their sixth at Hogwarts had been far too hectic for them to even think about a possible relationship. And then, the year after that, they had completed their Wizarding education at Hogwarts, which had just re-opened after that horrible year after Dumbledore's death. And that year at Hogwarts had been so perfect and so peaceful that he hadn't wanted to do anything to disrupt it. The year after that… well, as they had spent so much time together and got on so well together as friends, he had begun to believe his feelings for her were purely platonic.

But _that_ little notion soon died when Hermione began to date some oaf from her office. So then, pretending to be perfectly indifferent to Hermione dating someone else, he began going out with a girl from _his _office. Though these relationships with other people had eventually ended, there was never a period during the next year in which they had _both _been single, so it had seemed that the prospect of a relationship between Hermione and himself would come to nothing. However, just a month or so ago, they had suddenly found themselves to both be single, and so here they were now, back where they had both started.

Well, they weren't exactly back where they had started. Things between them weren't exactly the same. For instance, he had noticed that for the past few weeks she had been uncommonly nice to him. She smiled at him more often, she was considerably nicer to him, and she had started arguing with him a lot less. Mostly, he enjoyed it, but he was surprised to find that there was a tiny part of him that actually missed the quarrelling and bickering.

_Well, are you going to say something now then?_ he asked himself. Neither of them had spoken since Harry had left. _Go for it!_ he told himself. _Right_, he thought, _this is it…_

Unfortunately, silences such as these are always fated to be broken by both people _at the same time_.

"Hermione—"

"Ron, I—"

"Er – you go on."

"Oh, no! You continue!"

"Well, I… er…" Oh, Merlin, what had he been _thinking_? He couldn't do it…

He stared feebly at Hermione, who was giving him a puzzled look.

_Oh, great, now she probably thinks you're mad. Go on, just say something! Don't just stand there, you useless lump! You know she likes you too! At least, you're _almost_ sure she does. Say something!_

"Er…"

_Anything but 'er'!_

"Um…" he began. _Oh, well done, Ron. _"For the past few weeks, you – er – we…" Oh,_ Merlin._

And then – miraculously, thankfully – Hermione had interfered.

Smiling at him – rather shyly – she said, "Ron, it's… er, well, I think I know what you're going to say… and, um, well…"

And then, the whole atmosphere of the room seemed to suddenly change. Suddenly, it was inexplicably romantic. If they had been in a film, this would be the moment where the chorus would have kicked in, singing in heavenly, angelic tones and _oh Merlin has she just stepped closer to me?_

"Ron…" she said softly, and then stepped even closer to him.

He mentally thanked himself and Harry for not keeping an adequate supply of candles in the house. He could feel his ears turn red.

In the end, he wasn't quite sure if he had leant in to kiss her, or if she had leaned in to kiss him. All he knew was that both their heads had moved forward slowly, and that their lips had met somewhere in the middle.

After that, his whole mind seemed to have gone completely numb.

-----

"Right," said Fred. "You've got the potion, George?"

"Yep – all it needs is a bit of something from the person whom we want the drinker to fall for. A hair should do."

"Want me to get that?"

"Oh, I'm sure I can manage."

"Fine. How strong is it?"

"Not too strong. And I've watered it down too. It should only last for a few days… a week at most."

"Excellent. And are you sure it's effects won't be _too_ noticeable?"

"If you mean, 'Is she going to go around following him everywhere he goes and grabbing him by the collars and snogging him?' then, yes, I'm sure."

"Brilliant."

"And have you worked out how you're going to get it into her food or drink?"

"Not yet, no, but I'm sure an opportunity will present itself."

"Right. So are we all set then?"

"I think so."

"Good. Off to the Burrow then!"

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The fluff wasn't _too_ fluffy, was it…?

Thanks to my two reviewers, _Remus Is Mine_ (thank you for your compliments and, yes, I suppose things will get slightly disastrous!) and _Hakkais-gurl3000_ (thanks for reading – I hope you've enjoyed this chapter)


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